Heavy
by Depopulating
Summary: [Oneshot] He was the man of my dreams. [YusukeKurama]


**No. I'm not totally sane right now. But K-kun said that he thought this one was awesome, I guess it isn't too bad. **

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**I thought I had met the man of my dreams. **

He seemed quite lonely, sitting all by his lonesome by that one window.

He was gazing out it awkwardly, one brow raised and seemingly mesmerized by the people splashing around in the puddles outside on the sidewalk. Such a cliché moment. I thought I owed it to him to grace him with my presence, being as I was alone on this horribly dark afternoon, and by the looks of it, so was he.

So, I did. He didn't notice me until after a moment of me standing beside the table of the booth, looking down at him until he turned to look up at me. He seemed puzzled, although generally sound. He gazed at me with innocent eyes through black locks of uncombed hair. A band-aid was placed on his chin.

"May I sit down?" I asked, my voice as cool as I could make it. His lip quivered, as though he wanted to say something, but instead just stared, surprised.

"Well, I—"

"Great!" I shouted, sitting myself down into the seat across from him. It was the least I could do. He looked pathetic by himself, but that just made him even more attractive. His big brown eyes avoided any eye contact with mine, his fingers drumming against the marble coffee table.

"I'm Kurama," I said, breaking the silence. I owe my name to him at least.

"Yusuke," he replied, a hint of annoyance in his voice. I raised a brow.

"Well, I apologize for my actions," I said, getting up from the table. "I just thought the both of us could use the company.

"I… uhh…" he stammered, stopping me. "I … well, I don't think that it's smart for me to be seen with a girl at a coffee shop."

I couldn't help but laugh. "I'm no such thing, you dolt!"

He rested his elbows on the table, leaning in closer for a better look. "Wait… you're a dude?"

"Yes. I was sure that my voice would have given that away, but I was incorrect, obviously."

That made him smile. And what a gorgeous smile that was. The perfect curved lips in the most perfect devious grin.

"With these guns," Yusuke grinned, flexing his muscles, "that definitely doesn't happen to me."

I smiled, tugging at my red mane. "It's the hair."

Yusuke smiled once again, his eyes lighting up. He sat himself up straight, my eyes following the direction of his.

A girl, young and dressed in a blue school uniform, came up from behind me, sitting down next to Yusuke. I didn't mean to frown so quickly.

"I'd like you to meet Keiko," he said. She nodded her head kindly. "She's my friend."

And with that, we met again.

On the city bus.

Two months later.

Side-by-side.

Same incredible down pour.

Same small attempt at conversation.

"So what are your favorite flowers?"

"I don't care much for flowers," Yusuke replied, wrapping himself up in his trench coat. "But by the look of your overall… dress code, I would assume that you love roses?"

"Of course. And I assume you love green?"

Yusuke glared hard at his jumpsuit. "… I guess you could say that. Green looks better on me anyway."

I agreed, of course. But I couldn't tell him _that. _

"And I assume yours is red? Or do you just love having a different hair color from everyone else?"

"I was born with this!" I defended my precious hair. The bus suddenly stopped. Oh no, there went his eyes again—shining ever brilliantly. It was _her_ again. She was adorned in a large brown jacket, her blue skirt hanging out from beneath it. The fabric seemed to drown her. Her reaction was the very same as Yusuke; she came rushing toward our seat, sitting herself on the edge beside him.

"Hey, Keiko," Yusuke greeted her, turning to me. "Kurama, you remember Keiko? My girlfriend?"

It burned.

However, it seemed amusing. Yusuke, such a troubled, odd teen, had a girlfriend? Had fate gone mad? 

The second half of the bus ride was silent.

But we met again.

Two years later.

In front of his apartment.

And inside on his couch.

"What education have you gotten thus far?" I asked curiously. No, he didn't seem stupid. Maybe just a little slow. He handed me a drink from the refridgerator.

"High school. Just finished my last year," he replied quietly, avoiding all eye contact, as usual.

Jesus. This kid had only just graduated.

"I'm supposed to be well into University now," Yusuke glared, reading my thoughts. He sat down beside me, sipping on his own cup.

"Well, it looks like you're doing quite well!" I complimented, examining the small but humble apartment. "I myself in my own apartment not far away from the university downtown."

Yusuke sighed. "Well, I plan on being a therapist. You know, I've always wanted to help people out. Whether that be through pounding them in the head or through retarded therapy sessions. But I'd much rather just pound them in the head."

Yes. He smiled again. I hadn't seen it in a while.

But a therapist? He didn't seem like the type to want to achieve such a thing in his entire life. I guess he wasn't just all cute on the outside. He was gorgeous on the inside.

**I thought I had met the man of my dreams… **

The lock on the door clicked, and the front door to the apartment opened wide.

_She_ walked through the door. On her bony finger rested the largest rock I've_ ever_ seen.

**… until I met his wife. **

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For Kyrie-kun and Ame Dearest! Review, please?


End file.
